


Ruins

by aspiringtoeloquence



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringtoeloquence/pseuds/aspiringtoeloquence
Summary: In a world where the battle with Thordak goes horribly wrong, Vax views its aftermath.





	Ruins

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a way to channel my stress about the Thordak fight, so it's a worst case scenario. It was oddly cathartic to write it down and then see it not happen.
> 
> Also extra angsty Vax moments provided by my stress about dragons.

There is sound. He knows it’s there, in the distance, the sound of relief, of a tired, broken city lumbering to life under the weight of what they see as freedom.

He can’t hear it.

All he can hear is the silence of his friends’ chests – his family’s, his sister’s,  _ gods above _ – still on the ground where he sits. That, punctuated by the quiet, stifled sobs of Keyleth, close by as she mutters over Percy’s limp, lifeless body, her voice a hum of breath and pain. 

There’s no magic in the words, he’s all but certain. She has no magic left in her, and even if she did there is nothing that any of them can do. Gods know they have done enough.

And it was all for nothing.

He can’t look.

Scanlan is leaning over Pike, Kima by his side, hoping against hope that whatever last dregs of magic they have will be enough to bring life back into her chest.

Keyleth’s sobs grow louder, and Vax does not look at his sister’s face.

He does not notice that her head is leaning slightly to one side, so that her eyes, empty of laughter, of wickedness, of love, might just be locking with Percy’s a few feet away.

He does not focus on the feathers, crumpled slightly where they are pressed into the dirt, does not turn to see if Percy might be looking back. He is afraid of what he might find. 

Keyleth’s sobs hitch, and her scream is also a moan; helplessness and loss.

Grog is with her, he thinks; he hears a low rumble. He doesn’t know what Grog could possibly say to make this better.

He can’t bring himself to move and find out. 

Before anything, before he’d touched a healing potion or allowed himself a moment of rest, Grog had pulled everyone out. He’d laid them down gently, more gently than Vax might have believed possible if he hadn’t heard the break in Grog’s voice as he’d screamed Pike’s name. Grog does not move far from her, even now.

Vax does not look at Fenthris, his sister’s fingers still curled around the smooth wood, at the clear inscription he can see, even from a distance.

He does not look. Maybe if he does not look he will not think.

His eyes land on the jewel at her throat.

_ Trinket… _

“I dunno if we want him here.” He didn’t know he’d said it out loud, and he hadn’t noticed Grog approach (–  _ but brother, I thought you were so quick?).  _

He appreciates that Grog doesn’t make any effort at comfort, just waits.

(Keyleth is still just a few feet away, staring numbly in a direction that seems to be anywhere but here.)

He knows that Gilmore is beyond her. He saw the flash of ruined purple robes, avoided looking that way as he scrambled out of the tunnel. He will. He’ll go over there, face Shaun in this… but he can’t right now. He can’t imagine ever being able, ever being allowed to see that face again. 

Teal feather, soot covered fingers, charred purple fabric, broken crossbow.

Their new vestiges.

Vax is the champion of death, and death has taken him up on every offer he has ever made.

Why would this one be any different?

He sees the dragon scales fragmented on the ground, little chips of red just visible in the breaking day. There is a full, unblemished scale under his boot. He picks it up, brushes off the dust.  _ Percy had wanted… _

The dawn light begins to spill over the ruins of the heart of Emon, and a jagged edge of scale presses through his glove and into his palm.

He feels the warmth of the sun hit his cheek. 

Vax turns back to the bodies of his family, away from the light.


End file.
